Disclaimers: I do not own The Lord of the Rings. J.R.R. Tolkien does.

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I realize that a lot of my stories are dialogue heavy, but that is something I've grown used to since writing fanfic scripts. So, this is the reason why it's so hard. As for the details and descriptions, that's another matter that I need to get back into the habit of doing. So, here's hoping there's a balance between dialogue and description.

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Glorfindel took one last look in the mirror. His white robe and blue boots didn't compare to his fair features, pointy ears and long golden hair. He was fair among all accounts, but that did not mean he wasn't garnished with all his glory in such a splendid wide room with a rim balcony outside these walls and a bed complete with white sheets and beige covers. Yes, it was heaven.

"Glorfindel," said a dark-haired elf in red robes. Glorfindel recognized him as Elrond Half-elven, the lord of Rivendell. "It is time."

"Time for what?" Glorfindel addressed him in a fair voice.

"Come to the Hall of Fire, after you're done addressing yourself to a mirror," Elrond said, gliding away into the winding hallway.

Glorfindel did not press the matter further. Entrusting that his looks were well to do, he darted out of the bedroom and down the hallway, catching up to Elrond in no time at all.

"What are we going to find in the Hall of Fire?" Glorfindel asked Elrond, confused.

"You will see," Elrond said, turning the corner and down the stairs. Glorfindel still was adjusting to the splendor that was Rivendell. Would he be lucky to see those wood carvings again? Yes he would. He fought against the Balrog, so why shouldn't he feel safe now? He stopped when the guards opened the doors into the lit dining hall. There were several long tables and chairs, but what made the Hall of Fire stand out was the many fireplaces that lined the walls. Glorfindel looked up, intrigued by the second floor that overlooked the hall. Elrond gestured to a chair. "Please, sit down."

Glorfindel did just that, but was more surprised to see a gold encrusted scrolls. He opened it up, stunned to see all the names on there. "What is this?" He looked up at Elrond, concern smeared across his face.

Elrond was not so careless. "That is for you to find a wife. Good luck, Glorfindel."

"But I have no need for a wife…" Glorfindel gulped. Why did Elrond's eyebrow raise so flawlessly? "I mean, I know I would find a wife someday, but this is ridiculous."

"But it is your fans' desire that you find a wife," Elrond said, pointing to the many girls and women wearing white T-shirts with Glorfindel's face on the front. Glorfindel nearly vomited at some of the vulgar words displayed on his fans' shirts.

"May I go now?" Glorfindel said, standing up.

"But this story wouldn't be complete without you finding a wife," Elrond said, pushing his friend into the chair again.

"Please get me out of here. I don't want this. I'm not ready to find a wife," Glorfindel pleaded.

"But I thought you were ready to find a wife," Elrond said, raising an eyebrow again.

"That was before I knew what I was up against," Glorfindel said, sweat breaking out from his pores.

"Hm." Elrond glanced up at the fangirls, admitting to his friend, this time, "All you have to do is send them away."

Glorfindel stood up, his face hot with fury. He spat at the fangirls with his words, "I'm not ready to find a date or a wife! I'm not ready! I'M NOT – ready…" he yelled so faintly now. The world fell into darkness. He was waking up. He was awake, but there were the same fangirls, now in his bed. He screamed. He screamed so loudly that he couldn't help himself. The darkness returned to his mind and his vision. Oh, he had to get up. He had to. He awoke, sweat pouring down his face and chest. There weren't any fangirls around. It was still nightfall. He sighed in relief and perspiration. "What a scary dream."

The End.

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Thanks for reading. :)